


Of Ugly Christmas Sweaters and Warm Smiles

by Enyax



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Based on a Tumblr Post, Christmas AU, Christmas Party, Fanart, Jean is pissed, M/M, Tags Are Hard, cinnamon roll marco, even though it's way past christmas, ugly holidays sweaters, would this count as a drabble?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 00:40:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5607145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enyax/pseuds/Enyax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Jean is invited to a Christmas party by his two lunatic friends but of course, being the forgetful idiots they are, they don't tell Jean that it's actually a formal event and he ends up wearing an ugly Christmas sweater but luckily he's not alone.</p><p>BASED OFF OF THIS TUMBLR POST: http://marcobodtschickennuggets.tumblr.com/post/135930065122/my-jm-secret-santa-gift-for-dollyb0y-3-i-really</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Ugly Christmas Sweaters and Warm Smiles

**Author's Note:**

> Well credits to marcobodtschickennuggets for creating the comic strip. I just illustrated it with words if you will. Plus, who doesn't want to see JeanMarco in dorky Christmas sweaters?

Twas the night before Christmas, Jean Kirschtein’s favourite fucking holiday of the year. Instead of gaming until dawn in the comforts of his own home, he had been crazy enough to accept an invitation to a Christmas party by none other but the infamous Connie and Sasha; the only ones that technically qualified as his friends, and at the time he had wondered if he had _finally_ lost his wits after being influenced by the two lunatics. After countless phone calls with Sasha whining and pleading in his ear, he had reluctantly agreed to go. Key word here _, reluctantly_. Reason number one: Jean couldn’t understand for the life of him why people preferred to socialise, drink and have loud ass music playing to the point where their ears would be ringing several hours aftermath instead of sipping on some champagne at home while stuffing their faces with snacks and gaming. Reason number two: Jean was just socially awkward. At first he had fooled himself into thinking that maybe he would find a girlfriend at the party, maybe take her home, introduce her to his parents but it then dawned upon him that he couldn’t even talk to a baby freely without feeling embarrassed let alone a functioning adult.

However there was one problem with the situation he had gotten himself into. He didn’t have one of those ugly traditional Christmas sweaters. He knew that Sasha and Connie would wear one of those couple co-ordinated sweaters. Did couple Christmas sweaters even exist? Knowing those two, they’d go through thick and thin to find something out. Last time they did that, Jean ended up with a strong beating from Mikasa and two black eyes from Eren.

_There’s no fucking way they’re still selling Christmas sweaters even though it’s Christmas Eve._

Fuck last minute costumes, Jean thought. He’d have to borrow a sweater from Connie if he didn’t find one, that bastard had an entire wardrobe dedicated to those ugly shits. Jean grabbed his car keys and quickly drove to the nearest Target he could find. He parked his car in the empty parking lot and to his relief, Target was still open. He had one goal; to find a sweater ugly enough to be worn at the party. Maybe some reindeer antlers would do as well, he thought. Jean quickly scanned the aisles and found one full of sweaters. Most of them were on clearance or on sale so he grabbed the closest one, not even checking if it was the right size and marched up to the cash register before throwing it down onto the conveyor belt. The employee gave him a strange look and Jean glared back.

“4.00 please.”

Jean opened his tattered leather wallet and pulled out a crumpled fiver; handing it to the cashier. She folded his new purchase up, put it into a bag with the signature logo on it and ripped the receipt from the machine and put it in the bag as well. Jean took the bag from her with a nod and a grunt and he walked outside into the freezing cold air, shivering. He got into his Honda, turned the heating on and inspected it to see if the sweater was damaged or vandalised in any way possible. The colour of the sweater itself wasn’t too bad, it was the typical shade of Christmas green. White snowflakes and stars wrapped themselves around the sleeves, neckline and bottom hem. Jean sighed in exasperation and was ready to get out of his car and return the sweater when he saw what was smack in the middle where his navel was.

“I’m On Santa’s Special Naughty List” was written in white above a winking Santa head with long ass eyelashes and blushing cheeks. Jean groaned and rubbed his eyes but he wasn’t bothered enough to bring it back. He had paid five pounds for it, a pretty good deal if he would say so himself and people would think he would have a sense of humour if he wore it, making him seem more approachable. It would be a plan without fail, he thought to himself. He sped back home and gave the sweater a quick wash. There was no way Jean Kirschtein of all people would allow a dusty, germ infested sweater touch his skin. He wondered if some of the cleanly habits from his old roommate, a complete clean freak who would feel the need to disinfect their flat with bleach every day, might have rubbed off on him. Hopefully not.

****

The Christmas party was being held in a ballroom in a hotel. Festive decorations such as tinsel were hung up just about everywhere possibles; on the walls, ceiling, and a massive Christmas tree was erected in the corner of the room which was decorated with beautiful glass ornaments. An array of drinks and refreshments were set up at the top of the ballroom and an elegant chandelier hung from the ceiling. “Santa Baby” was currently blasting from the speakers which were situated at the top of the ball room and the guests were dancing and chatting. Connie and Sasha were currently part of the mingling guests and they were drinking champagne and laughing with each other. Sasha was clad in a tight maroon dress. A dainty gold bangle adorned her wrist. Connie was sporting a denim blue shirt with a maroon tie, perhaps intending to match Sasha’s dress.

 At that moment, Jean walks through the doors and heads swivel in his direction. He felt like a deer trapped in headlights, like a scene from a movie where the faces of the onlookers are darkened out and are whispering to each other, laughing at him, mocking him. He had experienced this situation so many times before. His cheeks flush in embarrassment and his eyes frantically search through the crowd trying to find Sasha and Connie. Once he spots them, he begins to push through guests as fast as he could, mumbling brief apologies on his way.

“Connie! Sasha!” he yelled through gritted teeth. Connie took one look at him and spewed his champagne out through his nose.

“I thought you said this was a _Christmas Party_!”

“It _is_ a Christmas Party,” Sasha heaved out, trying to supress her laughter. All of the guests were either wearing dresses or suits.

“Yeah but you didn’t say it was _this_ kind of party!” He was pretty sure his blush had just deepened and he cursed him and his habit of blushing at the wrong moments.

“I thought you texted him?” Connie shrugged to Sasha. Sasha shrugged back.

“I thought you did, I was playing Call of Duty.” By this point Jean was burning with rage. He had become the public clown because his so called friends weren’t capable of sending him a bloody text to warn him about the fucking dress code of all things.

“Fuck you guys,” he spat at them. As an attempt to not attract any more unnecessary attention to himself, he walked over to the Christmas tree and tried to cover himself with it by shimmying behind it. When he realised that he obviously wasn’t going to fit behind the bloody thing, he put his hands in his pockets and burned holes into the ground. To say he was pissed at the idiotic duo was the understatement of the fucking century. He wasn’t just raging, he was _burning_ with desire to kill them, as psychotic as that sounded. He soon drowned into his thoughts and was starting to wonder when this freak show would be over.

“Hey! I really like your sweater!” Jean was brought back to reality and looked up in surprise and a tall, brunette man with warm, chocolate eyes and freckles on his cheeks waved at him awkwardly even though they were no less than 2 meters away. He was donning a red sweater, the snowflake design similar to Jean’s but instead of a flirty Santa, there was a deer with a green ribbon wound around its neck and the phrase “Santa’s Little Helper” underneath it. He was also wearing a white and green striped elf hat. Jean found the man’s smile captivating and infectious, and soon enough he found himself shyly smiling back, glad that there was someone who appreciated his sense of style.

“Did they forget to tell you this was a formal event too?” Jean came back to his senses and awkwardly rubbed the nape of his neck, his blush deepening yet again.

“Oh… yeah…” he sheepishly admitted. The man stepped closer to him and outstretched his hand. He was a bit taller than Jean.

“I’m Marco by the way!” He grinned childishly at Jean. Jean took his hand into his own and was surprised by how soft it was.

“J-Jean.” He looked up at him in awe but then quickly looked away once he realised he was staring at Marco. A shy smile began to stretch onto his lips and they sat in a comfortable silence (if you don’t count the blaring of the music and the obnoxious laughter of some wasted couple).

“So…” Marco began.

“Santa’s special naughty list? What’s that all about?” Jean indignantly spluttered and blushed. Marco nudged him playfully.

“Shut up! It was on sale okay!?” Marco laughed heartily.

Jean was never going to another Christmas party in his life.


End file.
